Numbing the Pain - Martini please!

Vivianne Blair
1945-1987

I was walking back from the shopping mall last night when Vivianne appeared behind me. It was snowing big wet flakes, my hands were full with bags and I was just in a hurry to get home.

I was wrapped in my warm winter jacket – wishing I had a winter hat – but the wet snow was just hitting my face and melting in my hair, seeping to my scalp. Vivianne on the other hand looked quite chic in her pale green designer suit – with matching large brim hat. She was trotting along in her matching pale green high heel shoes, matching purse and her hands were also full with what shopping bags.

Vivianne was a constant chatter box.
“I can't believe they buried me with my best outfit!” she said.
“I thought you would have been happy that they made you look this good,” I replied, hastily trying to get out of the wet snow.
“It's such a waste to put that on me and slap me in a box for eternity! What if it got dirt on it? It is pure silk – it is really hard to get the stains out! And lets not mention the wrinkles!” Vivianne was very serious.

I put my focus back to the slippery sidewalk in front of me and let Vivianne follow along. She didn't seem to notice that it was snowing, nor that she didn't have a winter jacket on. She was in her own little world.

******

As I sat down to start writing Vivianne' story, I asked her what year she was born and what year she had died. She said that she had been born in 1945 and that she had died in 1983.

However, further into our conversation, she mentioned that she was 42 when she passed. Vivianne had lied about her year of death!! This goes to show that spirits can be just as vain dead as when they were alive.

I was quite busy all evening and Vivianne just hung around the living room while I worked at the computer and talked on the phone. She was quite eager to hear about my “men issues”. For some reason, I didn't get the feeling that Vivianne was the best person to take advice from about men...

“My husband had money. I married out of safety – and greed – but that only comforts you for so long. I started drinking more and more, trying to numb that part of me that needed the love of a man. And I don't mean love from Armani and Valentino.”

Vivianne seemed to want to pour her heart out.
“Do you have any vodka, dear?” she asked next.
I smiled and responded in the negative. Even if I did have some, I wasn't about to waste it on a discarnate guest! Acknowledging these spirits only went so far!

Vivianne seemed disappointed. Since I had no alcohol for us to drink, I went off to bed.

Vivianne took my cue and she followed me upstairs, as if she was also turning in for the night. The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was Vivianne wearing a frilly sleep mask on her forehead, ready for bed.

*******

The next morning, I was having coffee and surfing the web when Vivianne joined me, dressed in a long frilly bathrobe with matching frilly indoor slippers, and cup of coffee in hand. She dramatically sat next to me.

I was very impressed with the way she had changed her clothes, or manifested a “ghost” cup of coffee in her hand. Most spirits that visit me are stuck in one moment in time and space and they usually don't realize that they can actually change their clothes or manifest whatever they want at will. On this aspect, Vivianne was quite accomplished.

Sipping my coffee, Vivi, as she like to be called, started reflecting back on her life.

“My life in death is just as shallow as when I was alive,” she said.
“Really, what do you mean by that?” I enquired.
“I don't really do much more now that I'm dead than I did when I was alive. I worry about my clothes, shoes and purse matching, it's never too early for a drink and I feel just as lonely – no matter how many people surround me.”

“Vivi, your life is what you make it out to be, isn't it?” I asked, not wanting to believe in the fatality my guest seemed to have chosen for herself.
“You think that dear, you think that...” she sarcastically said, peering over her coffee mug.
“I have to believe that Vivi, as otherwise, I would fall into victimhood and just like you, start craving a martini at ten in the morning.”
“Martinis didn't take away the pain when I was alive, they just numbed me. Now, regardless of what I do, the pain is always with me. What I didn't fill up inside me when I was alive is just emptier now that I'm dead.” Vivi sounded so sad.
“Vivi, I won't pretend to know what you're feeling, because I don't. I've never been dead and earthbound. I'm often filled with emptiness though. And I know that regardless what I try to fill that empty space with, it just doesn't work. And maybe because I don't have martinis, I feel that pain everyday. At least you got to be dead for it to catch up with you.”

To my dismay, Vivi and I may have had more in common than I cared to admit.
“Well, honey, feel that pain. Because if I had allowed myself to feel that pain when I was alive – I might have actually done something more with my life. Been more of who I could have been. Martinis robbed me from that.”
“Oh, no they didn't Vivi! You robbed yourself from that. You did that to yourself. But now, you have a chance to choose differently,” I said.
“What do you mean, dear? How can I choose differently, I'm dead – in case you hadn't noticed.” More sarcasm.
“Vivi, I know very well you are dead, because I'm the only one around that can see you. I mean, did you think THIS was what death was all about?” I asked.
“If by THIS you mean having breakfast with you, just because you're the only one that has noticed me in decades? No!! I thought death would be freedom from my life, from myself!” She shouted.
“Well, Vivi, let me break it to you. Your body is dead all right, but you haven't gone through death yet. You are still stuck between life and death. What you are living right now is not the real thing. It's like a pre-death. You've shed your body, but you still haven't shed your Vivi personality and merged back with God. That is when you're truly free.”
“How come you know all this dear?” Vivi asked, surprised by my revelations. I could feel she had a feeling of what I was talking about though. I felt she was ready to discover that true freedom.
“Vivi, I've been around people like you for a long time. I've seen what happens and I know this is not the final step of your journey.”
“Thank you for saying people like me. I haven't felt like someone in a long time.”
“Are you ready to move on Vivi? Are you ready to taste freedom? Are you willing to get out of yourself, to be more of your self?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“I'm so ready dear!” Vivi replied tearfully.

At that point, I called for the Light to come and that Vivi be guided and escorted through. The Light had always been there, only Vivi was not ready to see it. Now that she was ready and willing to let go of her life's disappointment and to take ownership for what she had created for herself, the final step of her journey in death came naturally.

Tomorrow didn't come

David Shawn McAllister
1963-1999

I was just getting off the phone late last night when Dave appeared in my living room.

Dave was a tall and strongly built man who looked in his mid-thirthies. He had medium brown hair, handsome features and a beard stub covered his cheeks and chin. He was dressed in a rugged fashion, with what looked like a checkered flannel shirt and dark corduroy pants. On any other man, this would have looked corny I think, but he actually pulled it off. I think I already mentioned that he was handsome…

Dave sat next to me on the sofa, quiet and observing. I was intently watching a DVD, so I didn’t pay too much attention to him.

I know, you will say: But how could you NOT pay attention to Dave – you know, the dead guy sitting next to you?

The answer is quite simple – I have been seeing ghosts for the past few years and once they have engaged me (either in conversation or by sitting next to me) – they don’t go anywhere until I assist them to find the way to the Light or God. So I figured that Dave could wait a little longer.

I was about to turn in for the night and Dave followed me upstairs. He was the discreet type and quietly stood next to the bed. I could sense he wanted to talk, so I invited him to sit down. I have lost count of how many strangers, male and female, I have had sit in bed with me!

Dave finally broke the silence and said: “I feel I could have been so much more in life.”

“What makes you say that?” I enquired.

Propping himself more comfortably next to me, he added: “I feel like I’ve let everyone down. Including myself.”

I could feel the pain behind his words. I didn’t really know what to answer. As if he felt my discomfort, he went on.

“Enjoy your life while you can. I never thought mine would end. Now I feel like I wasted it.”

There was another long silence and I fell asleep. Yep. You read that well. I just passed out, exhausted, with Dave the discarnate spirit still next to me.

****

When I woke up the next morning, Dave was not in my room anymore. I got caught up in my routine and totally forgot about him – until now, as I write these words. Dave is stitting in the chair next to me, reading over my shoulder. He is flattered that I find him handsome – as he was a bit shy in life – and in death as well if you ask me!

Dave seems to regret a lot of things from his life. Not so much the things he did, but the things he didn’t do - he just clarified for me.

I still don’t really know what to tell Dave. I mean, he’s body is dead and there is nothing more he can accomplish as “Dave” anymore. Except may be with me – or THROUGH me, he just said.

Aww, I get it! He wants people to not make the same mistake he did. Here is what he has to say.

“Guys, live your life like there was no tomorrow. Because you know what, one day, there was no more tomorrow for me. I was healthy, hard working, had great values and integrity. I was caught up in my life. Or what I thought was my life. And then, one moment, I’m dead. Dave’s body is dead, but something unexpected happened: I lived on. My spirit didn’t die.

“Only, what good is my spirit, if I don’t have a body to do things? What good is my spirit, if my friends and loved ones can’t see me? To them, Dave is dead. But what about me?

"There is so much I didn't get to say or do. Don't get lost in things that won't matter all that much after your body dies. I don't care about my flat screen TV anymore - but I'm haunted that I didn't tell my family how much I loved them more often.

"Live every day like there was no tomorrow. Because one day - your tomorrow won't come either. And no matter how hard you try, your body will still be dead.

"You can't live from the grave - Lord knows I've tried. It took me a long time to finally find someone who would listen. Who would care. Someone who reminded me that I still existed, even if I seemed dead to the entire world. I had cared about.

"Live like you have already died - I sure wish I did."

***

Dave sat next to me for a little while, happy that I had written up his thoughts. He seemed to have found some peace of mind, as if he felt he had finally accomplished enough to be worthy to move on.

As I called the Light for him, my throat became tight with emotions. Dave was now radiating and seemed satisfied, satisfied enough to now want to move on and cross over.

As he gently waved, he stepped into the Light, finally ready to move on.

I enjoyed Dave's company - even if I knew he didn't belong here. He had this quiet inner strength that just made his presence reassuring. I know, ghost and reassuring presence may seem like an oxymoron to most and I hope that these stories will make you think otherwise.

Until my next in-between world encounter...